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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892827">phoenix</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamstiler/pseuds/bamstiler'>bamstiler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I haven't read the Manga yet, Insecure Oikawa Tooru, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Ushijima Wakatoshi, One Shot, Post-Time Skip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:20:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamstiler/pseuds/bamstiler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa has always wanted to be a bird. </p><p>Yet as each year passes, he couldn't seem to fly.</p><p>Instead, he felt like he was drowning.</p><p>(AKA, Oikawa Tooru's progression through his career)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>phoenix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa has always hated the rain. A 'tch' escapes from his lips as he stares at the precipitation in annoyance. Around him, his classmates began pulling out their umbrellas. Girls hung off each other underneath pastel umbrellas, shielding themselves from rain and exchanging gossip. <br/>
<br/>
Oikawa reached into his blue and white backpack, fumbling around for the handle of his umbrella- an alien themed one with stars on the handle. He could feel his lip curl into a scowl, knowing that he had left his alien themed umbrella by the door. He had woken up late, and rushed out the door after barely being able to scrape out a goodbye to his mom. <br/>
<br/>
'What did she say again?' He thought to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, right. Don't forget an umbrella. </p><p>Mentally, he smacked himself on the forehead. He'd been too preoccupied with the thought of Iwaizumi waiting for him that-</p><p>
  <em>THUMP! </em>
</p><p>A book bag swung into his side, catching him in the ribs. </p><p>"Ow! Hey that hurt!" He cried in protest.</p><p> </p><p>There, the perpetrator himself, Iwaizumi Hajime, stood in all his glory. The scowl that Oikawa had grown accustomed to was etched onto his best friend's face. </p><p> </p><p>"I bet you forgot your umbrella again, huh?" Iwaizumi asked. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa immediately pouted, rubbing at the dent that Iwaizumi had just left in his side. He could barely even speak before Iwaizumi opened his book bag and pulled out a slightly crumpled umbrella. There was a <em>swoosh! </em>and Oikawa found himself crowded underneath the umbrella with Iwaizumi cramped into his side.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>"You're too fat, idiot!" Iwaizumi scolded while elbowing him in the side.</p><p> </p><p>"Ow! Iwa-chan that hurts! You already punctured my liver earlier, what more do you want?" Oikawa squealed. </p><p> </p><p>"We have to hurry home! The rain means that the snails are gonna come out in my mom's garden!" Iwaizumi pressed on, smoothly ignoring Oikawa's protests. </p><p>The shorter male just soldiered on, splashing on puddles that left Oikawa soaking wet and nearly sobbing. He could feel tears of frustration welling up in his eyes, but managed to keep it contained with just a wobbling lip.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi seemed to notice after 5 minutes of silence from Oikawa, and quietly said, "We can watch that alien documentary later too- but only after we catch five snails!" </p><p> </p><p>Immediately, Oikawa perked up again. All thoughts of crying and throwing a tantrum were thrown out the window.</p><p> </p><p>As they walked towards their street, Oikawa began humming quietly to himself while listening to Iwaizumi rant about the beetles he had caught the day before.</p><p> </p><p>He didn't tell Iwaizumi, but he hated the rain. But maybe when Iwaizumi was around, it was a bit more bearable. </p><p> </p><p>And that cold was <em>so</em> worth it after he watched the new alien documentary with Iwaizumi tucked onto his bed with him.</p>
<hr/><p>A bird rustles through the leaves above Oikawa and Iwaizumi as they walk to their school. </p><p> </p><p>He thoughtfully munches on the 100-yen milk bread he had bought from the convenience store while Iwaizumi walks quietly by his side.</p><p> </p><p>"What are you thinking about?" Iwaizumi asks.</p><p> </p><p>Of course Iwaizumi would know that he's thinking. </p><p> </p><p>"What? How did you know I was thinking about something?" Oikawa asks curiously.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi just snorts, "You never shut up unless you're thinking about something."</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa just pouts, but feels warmth growing inside of him. Of course Iwaizumi would know.</p><p> </p><p>"I was just wondering who the new players are gonna be." Oikawa says.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, they obviously have to be good. Don't worry about it," Iwaizumi says nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>"Who says I was worried?" Oikawa says haughtily. </p><p> </p><p>The resounding slap that he receives on his head jolts the milk bread out of his hand and onto the ground.</p><p> </p><p>There's a quiet moment before Oikawa throws a fit loud enough for his classmates to comment on it once he settles into his seat.</p><p> </p><p>Behind him, Iwaizumi is beet red and his ears are flushed. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa can only feel victorious, because of course! That's what he deserves for knocking his beloved milk bread out of his hand!</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Oikawa shivers and zips up his navy blue and white jacket. He stands underneath the awning just outside the gym. His hands are shaking and he can't seem to stop trembling.</p><p> </p><p>He can hear the familiar squeaking of Iwaizumi's sneakers and the explosive bang that follows. </p><p> </p><p>A kill, he thinks. He can tell just by the sound. </p><p> </p><p>Someone whoops and cheers, yelling out a, "Nice, Iwaizumi!"</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa wants to go inside, wants to escape the cold. But he couldn't seem to let himself move. </p><p> </p><p>His mind wanders. </p><p> </p><p>And wanders.</p><p> </p><p>And wanders.</p><p> </p><p>All the way back to him standing, no <em>towering</em>, over Tobio. His hand was raised and-</p><p> </p><p>"Oi! Oikawa what are you doing?" Iwaizumi's harsh voice cut through the wallow of <em>guilt and shame and-</em></p><p> </p><p>"Oikawa?" His voice was softer this time. Oikawa could hear Iwaizumi walking over to him and all he wants to do is bury himself into the ground and let the freezing cold take him forever. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi asked, clasping his hand onto Oikawa's shoulder.</p><p> <br/>
Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi's trying to look into his eyes. But Oikawa keeps his gaze pointed at his shoes.</p><p> </p><p>'Since when did I have blue shoelaces?' He thought. </p><p> </p><p>Blue. Blue <em>blue blue bl-</em></p><p> </p><p>A <em>thump!</em> and Oikawa felt a stinging on the back of his head. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi had smacked him again, breaking his previous record of 7 times a day.</p><p> </p><p>"Ow! Iwa-chan mean!" He pouted. The stinging on his head temporarily buried the coldness deep into his heart, leaving him aching in two places on his body.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>"You're going to give me brain damage, you know!" Oikawa chided. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes and begins walking back towards the gym, not waiting for Oikawa to catch up. </p><p> </p><p>"Your existence gives me brain damage!" Iwaizumi snarked. But underneath, Oikawa could hear the concern in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>"You brute!" Oikawa screams, charging after Iwaizumi with his fist raised.</p><p> </p><p>And then he stops in his tracks.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't know why he stops. He doesn't want to know <em>why</em> he stopped.</p><p> </p><p>But he knows. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi doesn't take notice of his sudden stop, continuing to walk towards the gym. </p><p> </p><p>"Coach is already pissed, you know. You're late. He says you're gonna clean up by yourself," Iwaizumi says gleefully.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa lowers his fist and shakes his head, "You're gonna help me right?" </p><p> </p><p>"No," Iwaizumi answers shortly.</p><p> </p><p>A pout develops on his lips, and he lets out a childish 'hmph.'</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa runs after him, immediately being enveloped by the humidity of the gym.</p><p> </p><p>Across the court, he can hear his coach yell his name and the collective silence of his teammates. </p><p> </p><p>He feels the piercing eyes of Tobio and he feels that cold creeping up on his skin again. </p><p> </p><p>But before he lets the shaking overtake him, he plasters on a sheepish smiles and bows. </p><p> </p><p>"Wow Oikawa! Didn't know you could be late! You're the worst captain ever!" He hears Mattsuwaka cackle.</p><p><br/>
Around him, his teammates all add in with their quips. </p><p> </p><p>Even though Oikawa is smiling, the words leave cuts in his skin. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you sick or something?" Iwaizumi asks, pressing his hand onto Oikawa's forehead.</p><p> </p><p>The worried glint in Iwaizumi's eyes are enough for him to shake off the numbness in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>He slaps Iwaizumi's hand off of his face, teasing him with, "Iwa-chan, are you worried about me?"</p><p> </p><p>And then the Iwaizumi's eyes harden. Oikawa has barely just enough time to dodge the swing that Iwaizumi throws his way.</p><p> </p><p>"Oikawa Tooru!" The coach screams. "Give me twenty laps now!"</p><p> </p><p>Snickers erupt again, and Oikawa feels a frown beginning to develop. </p><p> </p><p>And then Oikawa smoothly recovers and begins running around the court. </p><p> </p><p>Each time he passes by his teammates, they snicker and teasingly call him their king.</p><p> </p><p>As he runs his tenth lap, he feels Tobio's eyes following him. He hears the familiar sound of the pass, and the beautiful form of Tobio's set immediately pops into his head. </p><p> </p><p><em>How pathetic,</em> Oikawa thought. He wasn't even facing the court, yet he could tell that Tobio would be perfect. Of course the prodigy would be perfect.</p><p> </p><p>And then there it is again. That cold sinking feeling in his gut. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks to himself. He wonders how many hours it would take for his body to not fumble the ball. </p><p> </p><p>For his hands to naturally set the perfect set, sending it to Iwaizumi to nail in the final point.</p><p> </p><p>For him to be like Tobio. </p><p> </p><p>"Give me ten more, Oikawa! Then you can sub in for Tobio!" Coach yells from across the gym.</p><p> </p><p>He feels his muscles burning, but he doesn't let himself slow down. The quicker he finishes these laps, the quicker he can get Tobio off the court.</p><p> </p><p>The guilt he immediately feels after that thought nearly trips him. But then he pushes it down. </p><p> </p><p>'If my pride is already worthless, then why not.' He thinks.</p>
<hr/><p>It's hours later when he decides to stop. </p><p> </p><p>Or rather, Iwaizumi witnesses him keel over, dry heaving onto the hardwood floors and forces him to stop.</p><p> </p><p>There's nothing in Oikawa's stomach, he had felt too ashamed to eat that day. </p><p> </p><p>His shoulders, his knees, his hands, <em>his entire body</em> is shaking. </p><p> </p><p>Blue and gold volleyballs lay across the court, separated by the net and Iwaizumi towering over him. </p><p> </p><p>He can see that Iwaizumi is talking to him. He see's that his mouth is moving, but there's a ringing in his ear that can't seem to stop.</p><p> </p><p>"-re you stupid? It's 10 o'clock and you're still here?" Iwaizumi shouts. </p><p> </p><p>Did he see Iwaizumi leave? </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't remember. All he knows is that he needs to start his serve from 10 centimeters back to drive it into the back right corner without a chance of it hitting out. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa tries to get up, but Iwaizumi pushes him back down. A water bottle is forced into his hand, and he drinks from it shakily. The ringing inside of his ears have died down a bit, leaving the humming of the lights above him to fill the silence. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi is panting, chest heaving and sweating like he'd run miles before he came to stop Oikawa. </p><p> </p><p>The worst part is, Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi did. </p><p> </p><p>The shame creeps up on him again. There's a tremble in his lower lip, and he forces the tears that well up in his eyes to go back down. </p><p> </p><p>"What the <em>hell</em> are you thinking, Oikawa Tooru!?" Iwaizumi screams.</p><p> </p><p>His name echoes around the empty gym, and Oikawa staggers to his feet. He can see Iwaizumi begin towards him and he raises his hand, stopping his best friend in his tracks.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine, Iwa-chan! Gosh, I was just practicing my serves." Oikawa says, dismissing the concern Iwaizumi rarely openly shows.</p><p> </p><p>Before Iwaizumi could open his mouth, Oikawa quickly adds, "But I'm almost done, I swear! Just a few more and then we can g-"</p><p> </p><p>"Like hell you are! I'm helping you clean up and you're going home. <em>Now.</em>" Iwaizumi says after seeing Oikawa open his mouth in protest. </p><p> </p><p>There's a beat of silence, and then Iwaizumi sets off towards the ball cart, collecting the stray balls off the hardwood floor. </p><p> </p><p>Knowing that he couldn't argue with Iwaizumi, Oikawa sets down his (Iwaizumi's- seriously there was a Godzilla on it) water bottle and walks towards the cupboard where they kept the brooms. </p><p> </p><p>He silently cleans the floor while Iwaizumi wheels away the cart, and Oikawa can feel himself itching to keep on practicing. </p><p> </p><p>But it seems as if Iwaizumi already sensed his thoughts, and then promptly locked up the ball closet using a key Oikawa had never seen before.</p><p> </p><p>"Seriously?! A key!? Where did you even get that?" Oikawa pouts. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi just smirks and tucks away the key into his pocket. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you almost done? Gosh, you're taking forever!" Iwaizumi complains, grabbing the broom from Oikawa's hands. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa can only sigh before he goes and gathers his bag. He zips his jacket up, the words 'Kitagawa Daiichi' burning themselves into his back. </p><p> </p><p>"I can't believe I did all of your cleanup for you. You're so lazy," Iwaizumi says, ending his tirade with a satisfying smack to the back of Oikawa's head. </p><p> </p><p>The click of the lock reverberates deep inside Oikawa, and he feels the familiar sense of dread set in. </p><p> </p><p>"Stop, you're going to get wrinkles you stupid." Iwaizumi chides. "It's not like the gym won't be here tomorrow."</p><p> </p><p>'But Tobio will be here tomorrow' Oikawa thinks. Tobio will be here, and Tobio will be <em>better</em>.</p><p> </p><p>But Iwaizumi has already turned away, beginning to take the familiar path home with his hand shoved away in his pockets.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, I'll get you milk bread on your way home." </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa spares one last desperate glance towards the gym before taking off after Iwaizumi. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>At 1:00 AM, Oikawa blinks awake.</p><p> </p><p>He's drenched in sweat, his hands clenched so tight that the muscles cramp and he <em>can't breathe.</em></p><p> </p><p>The air conditioning kicks on, and somewhere in his house he hears the floor planks creak. His dad must be getting water.</p><p> </p><p>His heart is still racing. There's a tingling in all of his exhausted limbs that leave his head fuzzy and disoriented. </p><p> </p><p> He lays there in his bed, his alien sheets strewn tangled in between his sore legs. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa turns his head, feeling his sticky hair shift with his vision. When he feels his heart slow down, he sits up. </p><p> </p><p>Sitting hunched over in his bed, Oikawa feels dizzy. Bile rises in his throat and he dry heaves over the side of his bed. </p><p> </p><p>When he's done, he lays back down with a sigh. His body hurts. Everything hurts. But he can't seem to stop thinking about how he sets.</p><p> </p><p>'It's unfair,' Oikawa thinks. </p><p> </p><p>He wants to cry, but his stubborn pride refuses to give in. Instead, he screams silently into his pillow, punching into it and wishing it were Tobio.</p><p> </p><p>But does he really wish it were Tobio? </p><p> </p><p>And so he stops, and climbs out of bed. He's on all fours, kneeling on the hardwood floor panting like a dog on a summer's day. </p><p> </p><p>It feels like he's drowning. He can't <em>breathe. Why can't he breathe?</em> </p><p> </p><p>Water. <em>I need water. </em></p><p> </p><p>He stumbles over to his desk, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste to unscrew his water bottle. It spills all over him as he chokes on the liquid, trying to gulp like he's a dying fish.</p><p> </p><p>He is dying. He needs <em>something. He hates water.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>I'm drowning. I'm drowning. I'm drowning! Help! Please!  </em>He wants to scream those words from his window. </p><p> </p><p>His hands find their way to his hair, gripping and pulling, leaving his scalp tingling with pain. His throat is parched. He's soaking wet.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa sits there until the sun peeks through his curtains, rendering his glow in the dark stars that were stuck to his ceiling useless. Slowly, he pries himself off the floor, unsticking one sore limb one after the other until he's standing. </p><p> </p><p>In the mirror, all he sees is a monster. Sallow skin and sunken eyes stare back at him. His ribs poke out but he feels like he's made of lead, weighing ten thousand pounds with each step.</p><p> </p><p>His fingernails are bitten raw, the skin red and peeling. </p><p> </p><p>His uniform neatly hangs off his lithe frame when Iwaizumi comes out of his front door. The black-haired male doesn't even attempt to hide his surprise. </p><p> </p><p>"Since when did you wake up so early, Shitty-kawa?" Iwaizumi asked. He slings his book bag over his shoulder and sets off at a slow pace. They're early today. </p><p> </p><p>"What, is me waking up early surprising to you? I can be punctual, you know." Oikawa says flippantly. His nails dig into the strap of his bag. There's a feeling of unease still lingering, sitting at the edges of his mind where he's afraid it'll attack at any moment. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi just snorts. He covers his mouth as he yawns, and then he catches a glimpse of Oikawa's appearance. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck happened to you?" Iwaizumi spat out bluntly. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa feels his heart wrench a bit, and the words stumble in his mouth before he is able to respond. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine, just had a rough night."</p><p> </p><p>"What rough night? Did you pick a fight with a street cat?"</p><p> </p><p>"Iwa-chan, are you worried about me?"</p><p> </p><p>A moment of silence passes. </p><p> </p><p>"You should've called me. I would've come over."</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa's mouth presses into a thin line, and he can feel his displeasure crawl onto his face. But then he wipes away any trace of negativity, and plasters on a smile.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine, I swear! Gosh, you worry too much. You're like a mom!" Oikawa says while flapping his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Iwaizumi isn't happy with his response. </p><p> </p><p>But what he feels will die with him. No matter how much Iwaizumi will pester him will get him to slice his skin open and reveal the ugly monster that breathes inside. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>They're at the beach. </p><p> </p><p>Him, Mattsun, Hanamaki, and Iwaizumi that is. Sort of a last hurrah before 3rd year. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa lounges on his towel, shaded by the umbrella. In the water, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki rough house. </p><p> </p><p>"Boys," Mattsun states simply. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa just nods in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>He shuffles, adjusting his body to avoid the setting sun. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>There's a lazy haze in the air, and he wants to savor it forever. </p><p>It keeps the chill inside his body away.</p><p> </p><p>For once, he feels truly relaxed. </p><p> </p><p>"You guys are no fun," Hanamaki pouts. The pink-haired male wraps a towel around his body, shaking his wet hair all over Oikawa.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! Stop that!" Oikawa squeals.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, stop Maki. Or else he'll hit you. Please hit him," Mattsun begged. </p><p> </p><p>"Oikawa wouldn't hit me. He couldn't even kill a fly," Hanamaki says. </p><p> </p><p>"He would <em>so</em> definitely hit you. Do you remember in middle school when-" Mattsun says before he was abruptly cut off.</p><p> </p><p>"Maki! I found a jellyfish dude!" Iwaizumi shouted from the edge of the tide. </p><p> </p><p>With a whoop of elation, Hanamaki runs off, ditching his damp towel on Oikawa's face. </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun cleared his throat as Oikawa flung Hanamaki's towel to the ground, giving it a petty stomp to rub more sand into it.</p><p> </p><p><em>I hope the sand ruins his stupid skin</em>, Oikawa thought.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa plops back down onto his towel, attempting to regain the same sense of peace before he was so rudely interrupted. </p><p> </p><p>"You know, speaking of him, Tobio-kun is going t-," Mattsun tries to say before he's abruptly cut off.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't care about Tobio," Oikawa says simply. And even he knows that he's lying. </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun just shakes his head and stands up. </p><p> </p><p>"I think I'm gonna go get something to drink at the convenience store. You wanna come?" Mattsun asks. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa answers with a silent shake of his head, and returns back to reclining. </p><p> </p><p><em>Kageyama Tobio</em>. He wishes that he could say that he hadn't thought of him in years. But he'd be the world's biggest liar if he wasn't already. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, <em>of course</em>, Kageyama Tobio would be competing against him in his final year of high school. Obviously, the world definitely decided that he deserved eternal punishment for life. </p><p> </p><p>God, it's been years since he's last played with Tobio. Oikawa doesn't even need to see the other setter to know that he's close to surpassing him. </p><p> </p><p>Hell, he's probably already better than him. </p><p> </p><p>The very thought has plagued him every night. It sits with him through his classes, his dinners, his late night sessions where he hits hits <em>hits </em>until he can no longer feel his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>He was <em>afraid</em>. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>And that's how he found himself awake at 3 AM. </p><p> </p><p>There's a familiar ache in his bones that have followed him through the years. He doesn't even remember when it started.</p><p> </p><p>He wishes that he didn't remember when it started. </p><p> </p><p>Around him, Hanamaki and Mattsun are snoring. Iwaizumi is slumped on the couch in the rental home, mouth open and eyes closed. The scowl that Oikawa usually causes isn't on his skin now, and Oikawa thinks that he likes this version of his Iwaizumi the best. </p><p> </p><p>The muscles in his finger twitch, aching for the familiar curves of a volleyball. All he wants is to practice.</p><p> </p><p>No. He doesn't want to practice.</p><p> </p><p>Not anymore. It hurts. </p><p> </p><p>He wants to be better than Tobio. </p><p> </p><p>He turns his body around, facing the wall. He can feel his breath bounce off the concrete before hitting his face again. And again and again <em>and again</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Oikawa?" Iwaizumi asks groggily. </p><p> </p><p>Internally, Oikawa curses at himself. But he's physically unable to speak. All he can do is choke out some sounds before he scrambles out of his futon and briskly walk out the door.</p><p> </p><p>His feet are shoved into a pair of slippers that are too small for him- most likely Makki's. His toes are cramping and he feels blisters begin to form as he walks along the sidewalk with his hands shoved into his pocket. Behind him, he can hear footsteps that are all too familiar. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa tries to speed up, but Iwaizumi must be jogging at this point. He's able to get another two steps before Iwaizumi's hand clasps down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.</p><p> </p><p>And with that, Oikawa crumbles. </p><p> </p><p>Big fat tears drip onto the concrete while Iwaizumi stands there, hand on his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>There's nothing here except for him and Iwaizumi. But it feels like the weight of the world has dropped back onto his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>He's cracking. </p><p> </p><p>He's sobbing. </p><p> </p><p>He's being <em>held</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi wraps strong arms around him and cradles Oikawa. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa hasn't cried in front of Iwaizumi in years. Not since their match with Shiratorizawa in junior high. He can't seem to understand why everything always leads back to this. </p><p> </p><p>Back to volleyball.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Once upon a time, Oikawa dreamed of being a bird. </p><p> </p><p>He had watched a documentary on National Geographic about the American Bald Eagle. He wanted to be as majestic, to be the king of the world.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to be the predator with subjects cowering in fear of him. </p><p> </p><p>Well- he wanted to until he saw the documentary about Great White Sharks about a week later. Then he wanted to be a shark.</p><p> </p><p>He'd proudly exclaimed to Iwaizumi on the playground that, "I'm the king of the ocean!" and then proceeded to get trampled by a couple of older boys.</p><p> </p><p>They pushed him down, laughing all while saying, "You'll never be the king of the ocean! You're just a tiny fish!"</p><p> </p><p>He cried, obviously. But the words stuck.</p><p> </p><p>And they were right. There were times where he felt like a tiny fish swimming alone in the massive ocean. No Iwaizumi, no Makki, no Mattsun. </p><p> </p><p>He <em>hated</em> being a fish. He hated the water. </p><p> </p><p>One time, he had a dream where he was a fish. Except he was suffocating. The water choked his lungs and his eyes burned. He flailed and flailed until he woke up with his blankets wrapped around his neck and a shattered glass of water laying on the hardwood floor next to his bed.</p><p> </p><p>That night, he spent thirty minutes picking glass shards out of his skin.</p><p> </p><p>That morning, he set ten thousand balls with bandaged fingers that stung every time he cradled the ball. Every time, he tossed to where Iwaizumi would be. Where Iwaizumi should've been.</p><p> </p><p>He did so until the rest of the team showed up, yawning and bleary eyed. They were too tired to rough house in the morning, stretching out their sleepy limbs and hitting lazy passes until the adrenaline kicked in. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi had kept careful eyes on his bandaged hands, eyes constantly glancing towards them. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure that he could give him an answer.</p><p> </p><p>And Oikawa wanted to know what it was like to be his team mates.</p><p> </p><p>Just for once.</p><p> </p><p>Just to be able to touch a volleyball without feeling fear. </p><p> </p><p>Just to be a tiny fish surrounded by its school, feeling like it was apart of something greater than its minimal existence. </p><p> </p><p>Without hating it. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>There was a lot of times in his life where Oikawa wished that he was a bird. </p><p> </p><p>Now was one of those moments. </p><p> </p><p>He's standing on the court, his arms outstretched, still stinging from his desperate attempt at saving his team's final chance. </p><p> </p><p>His final chance. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks it's ironic. How his arms are outstretched, like he's about to take flight. </p><p><br/>
Yet he'll never leave the ground now. </p><p> </p><p>Especially not with his busted knee.</p><p> </p><p>It's bitter. It hurts. It feels like crying on the sidewalk in a small beach village while your childhood bestfriend looks at you, afraid to take his hand away because he's watching you crumble. </p><p> </p><p>Aoba Johsai. </p><p> </p><p>A castle.</p><p> </p><p>A plant.</p><p> </p><p>A failure. </p><p> </p><p>A lifetime where he would never get to soar, always rooted to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>He can almost laugh at how pathetic it all was. How <em>he</em> was. How he <em>is</em>. </p><p> </p><p>The Great King standing in the ruins of a kingdom that he should've kept glorious. He was the pillar of it all.</p><p> </p><p>Yet out of all the rubble, he was the least identifiable.</p><p> </p><p>God, he <em>hated</em> that nickname. </p>
<hr/><p>He's staring at Ushijima Wakatoshi. </p><p> </p><p>There are tears coming out of his eyes, but he stops them from falling. </p><p> </p><p>Somewhere inside of him, a cold fire burns. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't you ever forget my worthless pride." He spits out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Worthless pride.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>And yeah, his pride is pretty worthless. Isn't it?</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Why couldn't he let it go?</p><p> </p><p>Was his pride really this worthless? </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa Tooru finds himself laying on the floor of the gym, knee purple and swollen. </p><p> </p><p>His phone is laying on the floor next to him, the screen showing off his lockscreen of Iwaizumi.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to say that he didn't cry. </p><p> </p><p>But he was tired of lying. </p><p> </p><p>There was snot and saliva everywhere as Iwaizumi came storming into the gym. </p><p> </p><p>The tournament was over. It has been over for hours.</p><p> </p><p>But why couldn't he let it go?</p><p> </p><p>He laid on the ground, mentally preparing himself for the harsh scolding of Iwaizumi, but it never came.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Iwaizumi knelt down next to him and asked, "How long?"</p><p> </p><p>How long? </p><p> </p><p>How long?</p><p> </p><p>How long has he laid here? How long has he existed knowing that he would always be normal? <em>How long has he played volleyball, hating every second of it knowing that one day, Tobio would eventually soar above him?</em></p><p> </p><p>He chokes on a sob, choosing to hold up three fingers instead. He can hear Iwaizumi cursing, momentarily leaving his side to go into the training room for an ice pack.</p><p> </p><p>Three hours. Three hours since he hit the serve that left his knee in searing pain. He doesn't know if this is something his worthless pride can recover from.</p><p> </p><p>He's lost in the thought of Ushijima, Shiratorizawa, and <em>Nationals</em> when-</p><p> </p><p>"Tooru, look at me. Tell me how bad it hurts."</p><p> </p><p>It's tender. It's raw. It stings. It hurts deeper than the torn ligament. </p><p> </p><p>But all Oikawa can do is hold up six fingers and allow Iwaizum- no <em>Hajime</em> to wrap his knee up. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>When he touches down in Argentina, he immediately snaps a photo to send to Hajime, Mattsun, and Makki. </p><p> </p><p>They all tell him (lovingly, of course), to shut the fuck up. Except for Hajime.</p><p> </p><p>Hajime just sends a picture back with him and Wakatoshi.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa sneers, pouts, and then turns his phone off. </p><p> </p><p>He had better things to do that did <em>not </em>involve Ushiwaka, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>What were those things?</p><p> </p><p>Well, of course it's the basics of everything for him.</p><p> </p><p>Volleyball.</p>
<hr/><p>He's panting and sweating, feet digging through the sand.</p><p> </p><p>His muscles burn with an intensity that he loved. It meant that he was getting somewhere. Getting stronger. <strike>Getting better than Tobio-kun.</strike></p><p> </p><p>Hinata Shoyou's hair burns brighter than the sun next to him.</p><p> </p><p>It's reinvigorating. It melts away the years of ice and brittle stone inside of him.</p><p> </p><p>It feels like he's finally awake after years of deep sleep. </p><p> </p><p>He understands what volleyball means to him. </p><p> </p><p>As Oikawa leaps, he feels it.</p><p> </p><p>All his life, he's been attached to the ground with his ankles wrapped in roots that were buried deep into the earth's core.</p><p> </p><p>"Oikawa-san!"</p><p> </p><p>A set. </p><p><br/>
An arm.</p><p> </p><p>A jump. </p><p> </p><p>He feels the thick and gnarly roots rip away from the ground, falling from his limbs as he swings down. </p><p> </p><p>The ball hits in the far right corner, leaving his opponents speechless for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>When he lands, Hinata is there, raving like he always does. Oikawa can't help smiling at the bright ball of sun next to him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>For all his life, Oikawa had wanted to be a bird. </p><p> </p><p>He had gone to Kitagawa Daiichi, he'd formed them into the best machine he could.</p><p> </p><p>He had gone to Aoba Seijoh and planted seeds into the ground, watching his team mates bloom into beautiful sprouts. </p><p> </p><p>He practiced his jump-serves over and over, hoping that he would be able to finally leap and never touch the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Yet every time, he landed. </p><p> </p><p>And every time, he would feel the roots grow over his shoes with stupid blue laces.</p><p> </p><p>It was always so cold.</p><p> </p><p>But now, playing under the heat of the Brazilian sun, he feels like he's <em>burning</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Something swells in his chest, threatening to crack his ribs.</p><p> </p><p>It's joy.</p><p><br/>
It's excitement.</p><p> </p><p>It's his <em>worthless pride</em>.</p><p> </p><p>A scream rips out of his throat, nearly scaring the life out of Hinata. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay, Oikawa?" </p><p> </p><p>No, he was more than okay. </p><p> </p><p>No longer was he a dehydrated plant struggling to grow out of a crack in the concrete. </p><p> </p><p>No longer was he that plant that got nipped away by a mouthy bird.</p><p> </p><p>He feels reborn. </p><p> </p><p>He's a phoenix rising out of the ruins of his fallen kingdom, reborn burning like a flame.</p><p> </p><p>As he stands, hands on his knees trying to find air to keep himself from passing out, he finally remembers what it was like to like volleyball again.</p><p> </p><p>No, no, he <em>loves</em> volleyball.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, I'll treat you to dinner."</p>
<hr/><p>If he knew that it took playing in the Argentinian League for him to finally beat Ushiwaka and Tobio-Kun, Oikawa thinks that he would've broken his neck to get to Argentina in high school.</p><p> </p><p>But now, as he stands on the line facing the Japanese National team, he realizes that it's more than that.</p><p> </p><p>He makes eye contact with Shouyou, and shifts his gaze to Hajime.</p><p> </p><p>His childhood bestfriend only smirks at him, but Oikawa knows. </p><p> </p><p><em>Do you see me now? </em>He wants to ask. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Does my high school self see me now?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hajime is proud. Of him. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is proud of himself. </p><p> </p><p>Even if he falls now, he can still rise above. </p><p> </p><p>No longer are his feet rooted to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>He feels weightless. He feels like he's about to take off and fly higher than an eagle. </p><p> </p><p>He is reborn. </p><p> </p><p>He is happy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote this in 6 hours because i really felt the groove, you know?</p><p>- i also haven't written in a few years, so please be forgiving hehe</p><p>please comment and leave feedback!</p><p>love you and oikawa!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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